Ascending Spiral
by FFcrazy15
Summary: The phrase, "A downward spiral" is often finished with, "into madness." Artemis Fowl disagrees: he believes a spiral staircase does not only descend, but also ascends. However, his struggle back to sanity is soon to be challenged by his old foe, Opal Koboi. Can he and his friends save the world one final time? Or will the rising odds finally put an end to Artemis Fowl? A/H.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this.

**Dr. Argon's Clinic, Haven**

Artemis stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

The fairy doctors and patients of the mental hospital moved out of his way like he was Moses and they the Red Sea, clearing the hallways and making a path straight to his door. He wasted no time stopping to twist the knob; instead, he shoved the door open and closed it just as quickly behind him. He took a glance around the room- bare white walls, a standard hospital bed, a small desk and his laptop- before sinking to the ground, his back to the door.

He pulled his knees in close to him, gritting his teeth. A trembling hand ran its way through his hair, brushing the raven-black locks out of his eyes.

Through the wood behind him, he heard Argon making his way through the hall, ranting all the while. No doubt he was coming to this very room, but Artemis was beyond caring. What could the doctor do? He was hardly stronger than himself, and these doors were made out of ironwood, specially designed to keep the patients in and, in this case, irritating pixie doctors out.

"-Absolutely no respect!" Argon ranted. "The boy is a haughty, arrogant, supercilious-"

"What happened now?" another voice asked. Artemis's grimace deepened. Foaly.

"He won't cooperate!" the pixie practically spat. "He has no shortage of defiance or arrogance! I can't cure a patient that doesn't want help in the first place!"

The human behind the door felt his hands curl into fists.

"You expect him to comply with your procedures?" Foaly replied with a snort. "He's Artemis Fowl. He's not the compliant sort of man, doctor."

"Man? Oh, so he's a man now? He's fifteen-"

"Eighteen," a female voice interjected. _So Holly's here, as well,_ Artemis thought.

"Fifteen, eighteen, does it matter? He's arrogant-"

"He has a lot of pride," Holly corrected.

"That's what I said."

"No, you called him arrogant. There's a difference. And besides, that's not the problem, Doctor."

"Oh, so you're the psychiatrist now?" the pixie hissed angrily. "Well if you're so smart, tell me, Miss Short, what is his _problem?"_

"You're trying to force him!"

"I'm trying to _fix _him!"

"STOP IT!" Artemis finally shouted from behind the door. The voices stopped.

"Artemis?" Holly said cautiously, after a long pause.

He closed his eyes. Why had he done that? He should have just let them think he wasn't listening.

"Open the door, Fowl," Foaly said. When the centaur heard no response, he amended, "Open the door or I break it down."

There was a pause, and then a click as Artemis unlocked the door and opened it.

The site of the teenager in front of them was nothing like the one that had been just moments ago. Instead of a furious young man striding forward with what seemed to be the wrath of gods, they instead saw a young, beaten man, pale blue eyes cast towards the ground.

Argon was the first to speak. "Care to explain that little temper tantrum, mud boy?"

The 'mud boy's' eyes flashed. "I wouldn't think any explanation necessary, _Doctor._ I don't appreciate people poking their noses into my thoughts without expecting retribution."

"R-retribution?" the pixie sputtered. "_Retribution?_ For trying to help you!"

"Trying to sell a best seller, maybe, but I doubt 'help' is the word I'd use to describe your methods."

"My methods are the only way of treating your disease!"

"Yes, because putting truth serum in my coffee has done wonders for the cure!"

The pixie drew back, affronted. "I was trying to-"

"To do what?" Artemis spat. "Get me to open up? Figure out what _exactly_ is causing this?"

"Yes!"

The teenager laughed harshly. "Then why the hidden cameras, doctor? The ones I had to _sabotage _before our meeting!"

"You sabotaged my cameras?"

"Excuse me, did I stutter?"

"You stupid-"

"You stupid what? Really, Doctor, I want to hear this."

"You're crazy!" the pixie shouted.

The hallway fell silent. Every eye was trained on Artemis, whose eyes had snapped wide.

Slowly, slowly, he closed them, and- as if trying to regain control- took a few deep breaths. He opened his eyes again, the icy blue seeming to lack any form of life.

"So I have been told," he answered quietly, coldly. Then, he turned on his heels, walked back into the room, and closed the door.

Holly was the first to recover. "Well, that was helpful," she said sarcastically to Dr. Argon.

"Helpful? How am I supposed to be _helpful_ to _him?"_

She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He quailed under her hazel gaze, and realized that his old anatomy teacher had been correct when he stated that there could often be a slight height difference between the average elf and pixie.

"Figure it out," she hissed, "Or you'll have me to deal with." She let go of his collar and walked away down the hall.

Foaly watched her go, and then turned back to Argon. "That's a serious threat, you know," he said conversationally.

Argon threw his hands up into the air. "I give up. You people are all nuts." He walked away to his office. A moment later, Artemis heard the clip-clop of Foaly's hooves as he trotted down the hallway, likely to go back to work.

He closed his eyes and grimaced as tiny golden fours began to swirl around the edges of his vision.

"A way out," he mumbled to himself. "A cure. There has to be one."

He walked over to his laptop, opened the cover. He pulled up a window of the day-to-day journal and typed in an entry under the date:

No progress made. Dr. Argon attempted to use truth serum. I detected and refused it.

He paused, and then added,

I quite _strongly_ refused it.

_There we are. Much better._

He glanced at the date before. And then the one before that. And before that.

The first three words were continuous, repetitious. _No progress made. No progress made. No progress, no progress, no progress._

He slammed the laptop cover shut and covered his face with his hands. A long, long pause followed.

Finally, he opened up the laptop once more and wrote down underneath the last sentence,

I always found the expression, 'a downward spiral' an interesting phrase. Always coupled with a preposition and a noun, I found it odd to read such words as 'a downward spiral into madness.' How does a spiral describe one's mental deterioration?

Now, I believe I have found the answer. When I was a child, I found a spiral staircase inside the walls of the manor, where the servants in their day used to go up and down.

A spiral downward is like a staircase: the steps themselves are not steep, and yet they bring you down quickly, almost instantaneously, yet subtly all the same. One does not realize he is going down until he looks up at where he was.

Despite this, I have realized a peculiar thing about these spiral staircases: they are never only used to go down. Rather, it goes both ways: both a descent, and also an ascent. I intend my spiral to be the later.

Failure is not an option.

And with that, he closed the laptop.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this. The translation help came from Google Translator.

**Paris, France; 12:04 A.M. (Central European Time)**

The slums of Paris were less than beautiful, though that was to be expected. There were no jobs to be available, and as such no money for repairs.

A girl dressed in the clothes of an average teenager made her way through the streets, hood up, sunglasses on. She was of a small stature, and yet no one dared mess with her, though they themselves couldn't figure out why.

The girl stepped inside a small bakery shop, lit with a few dusty lamps to aid the single bare light bulb overhead.

The woman behind the counter- a portly, red-faced lady- looked at her, surprised. "_Qui êtes-vous?" Who are you?_

The girl smiled sweetly, removing the sunglasses, and the woman blinked. Those eyes… how beautiful…

"_Je m'appelle Opale," _the girl replied. _My name is Opal._ _"Vous avez mes amis?" You have my friends?_

The woman nodded, stunned by the tinkling voice. _"Oui, ma fille." Yes, girl. "Ils travaillent pour moi." They work for me._

_ "Apportez-moi à eux," _the girl commanded in the loveliest of tones. _Bring me to them._

The woman obeyed without question, leading the enchanting girl to the back room. It was small, with two little beds set up. Two even smaller men slept in the beds.

"_Vous pouvez aller,"_ she told the woman. _You may go._

The baker curtsied to the girl and said, _"Oui, ma dame." Yes, my lady._ She walked back into the main room and closed the door behind her.

Opal pushed back the hood and let her dark locks fall to her waist. She walked to the center of the room and clapped her hands loudly, once, twice. "Up!" she commanded in the gnomish tongue. "Up, both of you!"

Merval and Descant- for of course, it was they- jumped from their sleep, startled awake. They began to frantically speak both at once, to each other, to her, to no one in particular about things that made no sense.

"Quiet!" Opal said again. They fell silent. "Good. Now, I suggest you two _cowpógs _pack up whatever you can in the next two minutes before we leave."

"But- but aren't you in prison?" Merv managed to gasp out.

"Oh, I am," she said, fury flashing in her eyes. "The real question is: why aren't you?"

"We-"

"Exile-"

"Human-"

"Enough!" she cut them off. "I don't need any of your excuses! And don't look at me!"

They obediently looked away- in this case, down at their feet.

"Very good," she said smoothly. "Now, let me make this simple, boys: you do everything I say, I reward you with your lives. Understood?"

"T-to a T, Miss Koboi," Scant managed.

"Good. Now, pack up and move. I have a world to conquer."

The Brill Brothers quickly began to move about the room, gathering the meager possessions they had been given upon their release from prison and exile above-ground (surgical modifications had been made to render them humanoid, and of course their magic was completely gone, leaving any possibility of them telling the world at large of the People neutralized as their words would be regarded the ravings of madmen). Opal caught sight of herself in a small mirror over the washbasin.

Long, silky black hair framed her pale, pointed face. Blood-red lips and piercing brown eyes added color to her snow complexion.

No one else on this planet could ever be as beautiful as she. None save one, and even then, it hardly made sense to count herself against herself.

"Don't you worry, Opal," she said to the mirror, as if her older self could hear her hundreds of miles below ground. "I will rescue you, and then-" She laughed under her breath. "And then, with the two of us together, _no one_ can stand in my way."

**Dr. J Argon's clinic, Haven, 8:02 A.M.**

"So what is this new idea you have had, Doctor?" Artemis said, with as little sarcasm as he could manage.

Argon folded his hands and rested them on his lap. "As you know, none of our previous attempts at treatment have worked."

"Obviously."

"As you also know, these treatments are adaptions of the common treatment we use on fairies. The Complex generally targets the area in the brain where magic is held."

"And without that area, it's impossible to use any drug that's used to specifically trap and cure the Complex there," Artemis replied. "This is old information, Doctor."

"Quite. We have attempted to contain the Complex in the areas it resides in your mind, but unfortunately that's impossible as it's-"

"Everywhere," Artemis finished.

"Correct."

"So what do you propose to do about this problem?"

"First and foremost, we need to know everything we can about your specific case. Unfortunately, all my attempts at, ehm, _diagnosis_ were foiled by yourself."

Artemis conceded with a nod of his head, obviously not remorseful. "You have yet to tell me your plans, Dr. Argon."

Argon stood up and walked towards the door. "You have given lectures at various universities, have you not?"

"Yes," Artemis replied, surprised.

"And you are also the author of multiple textbooks, ranging from those used in elementary school to even a large selection of college-class manuals."

"Does this have a point?"

"Forgive me for seeming overly dramatic, Mr. Fowl, but it seems to me that, regardless of the limitless possibilities- both legal and otherwise- of careers available to you, you seem to enjoy teaching the best."

Artemis frowned. "Perhaps not the best, but I do find it enjoyable."

"Then teach me." He opened the door and took the laptop from the sprite that handed it to him.

Artemis was immediately on the alert. "You touched my computer, Doctor?"

"Only the outside, Mr. Fowl. I have this hear so you can give me a demonstration on what you believe has happened to you."

Artemis hesitantly took the computer from the gnome. "What are you getting at?"

"You want a cure. I want a cure. We have the same goal, Mr. Fowl, regardless of the motives. Help me understand what's going on that little mud man noggin of yours, and we'll all be done with this more quickly."

Artemis opened the laptop. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then said, "Forgive me for giving such an unsophisticated demonstration, Doctor, but I think this may be the best metaphor possible to what I believe has happened."

He pulled up the documents folder. Inside were numerous documents and numerous files, containing even more documents.

"Think of this computer as being my brain," he said, "And this folder as being the central consciousness, the one you are currently speaking to. This is what my mind looked like before the Complex set in: compartmentalized, as is common for any ordinary human." He clicked on a folder, entitled _The C Cube_. Inside was a number of old documents, from years previous.

He exited back to the documents folder. "As you can see, the folder currently contains every file and every document on this computer, all neatly organized. However-" He quickly created a new folder and labeled it, _Orion._ "-Take a look at this folder. Pretend it has a number of what I would consider to be unnecessary documents." He created a document and filed it into the folder. "Now, let's say I wish to get rid of these documents. What would I do?"

"Put it in the trash and delete it, of course," Argon replied, confused.

"Exactly. But look what happens." He dragged the file from the documents folder to the trashcan, and then opened it and clicked _EMPTY._

A little message popped up, reading, _'Are you sure you wish to delete the items in this trash?'_

Artemis hit cancel. "I tried to delete that file, Doctor, and the document inside. Let's say, however, that that document has also been saved to the main documents folder? What would happen then? The copy would not delete, correct? Not unless I were to delete both documents or folders.

"In the computer, it is possible to remove that document from the folder. In my mind, it is not. No matter how many times I tried to delete Orion, the doubly saved document would simply duplicate itself, forcing me to create a new folder and move the copy once again." He did this on-screen. "I believe that after enough times of trying to repeatedly delete the documents I did not want and having them simply re-created, the remaining magic from when Captain Short and I switched eyes in the time tunnel became agitated and attacked some of those documents."

"And which 'documents' are those?" Argon asked.

"Mainly those documents that concern guilt over my past crimes," Artemis said calmly, though he didn't meet the doctor's eyes. "A copy of each and every document exists in the host consciousness- the documents folder and the personality you are currently speaking to- but now the different folders-" He dragged the Orion folder to the desktop, "Are no longer all within the same main file."

"In other words, you have every document, but not every folder."

"Precisely. I suspect that this host consciousness has one hundred percent of the documents. About fifty percent of those reside solely in this folder, and another fifty percent have copies in various folders on the desktop. For instance, Orion could have maybe twenty percent of the total documents, but I would have the full hundred."

"Alright," Argon said, writing this all down. Then, he stopped. "Twenty percent?"

"Yes."

"Then where is the other thirty?"

Artemis pointed to one of the files, which he dragged to the desktop and then back again. "I suspect that there may be other folders that we are not yet aware of."

"Other alters who haven't yet surfaced?"

"Correct."

"So what we need to do," Argon said, understanding, "Is figure out what those folders are and move them-"

"Back to my file. Exactly."

"Do you have any ideas on how to do that?"

Artemis shrugged. "Do you think I'd be here now if I did?"

"Admittedly not." He thought for a moment, and then said, "There are a number of drugs you can try for today, but I'll have to think about this for a few days." He handed Artemis a bottle of pills. "Take these twice a day until our next meeting, understood?"

Artemis stood with a small roll of his eyes. "I understand you completely, Doctor." He picked up his laptop and walked towards the door.

Just as he was about to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. "I apologize for that fit of pique yesterday. They don't happen often, but it seems in light of recent events, I- well, again, I apologize."

"And I for believing I could fool you, Mr. Fowl," Argon said with a chuckle. "Have a good rest of your day."

"The same to you, Doctor." And with that, the Irish youth left the room.

He walked down the same halls he had stormed through the day previous, now in a much better mood. He had figured something out, something that could be important. It was a relatively good day.

Normally, he would go to his room and enter the news into his journal, yet he had struck a deal with Butler a few days previous: if he were to come to the gym each day after therapy and allow the bodyguard to train him, said bodyguard would not be in the room during the aforementioned therapy.

Yesterday had been a different case, but now Artemis was determined to fulfill his end of the bargain, so he took a left at the nearest corner and headed towards the facility gymnasium.

When he entered, he found it entirely empty which would not have concerned him (he certainly didn't want an audience), aside from the fact that Butler was supposed to be here.

"Butler can take care of himself, so no trouble," Artemis murmured. He looked around for whatever he was supposed to be doing.

A sack hung between two posts nearby. Artemis assumed it was similar to a punching bag, though it looked softer, which was good. Next to it was a set of gym clothes and a note that read,

_Will be back soon. Change into these. You can't train in a suit. –B._

_He has a point,_ Artemis thought, _though I'd rather not wear them._ Still, he did as told, picking them up and heading off to the locker room to the side.

When he returned (feeling rather self-conscious, true), he looked at the faux punching bag with an expression of distaste and, odd as it looked on him, mild confusion.

"I should have researched this," he said under his breath. Martial arts training hadn't been something he'd ever found the need to look up, though perhaps he should've ignored need and done so anyway. No doubt Butler had shown him how to punch dozens of times, yet he could not remember any of it. Perhaps this was what children who didn't pay attention in school felt on the day of a big test?

"Well, I won't get anywhere by standing around like this," he finally decided. He put his hands up into what he hoped was a fighting position and hit the bag.

His fist rebounded, but not from force. Rather, he had drawn it back himself and was now gripping the punching hand rather tightly with a grimace of pain on his face as his thumb throbbed. "Ow…"

"Thumb on the outside."

He looked over his shoulder, surprised. "Oh, Holly, it's you. Hello."

"Thumb on the outside," Holly repeated. "Do it like that again and you could break your finger."

He gave a grim chuckle. "I'll likely break it anyway. This isn't exactly my forte."

She shrugged. "Wasn't mine either, when I first started. You'll learn quickly, though."

"That's what Butler said when I agreed to this, though he did point out that the muscle growth may take longer than the learning process."

Holly laughed. "He's right." She walked forward and took his hand in hers, reforming it so the fist was shaped the right way. "Curl in from the pinky and then put the thumb over the top. Punch _through_ the object, not onto it."

"Punch through it, put my thumb over top. Got it."

She gave him a long, hard look. Then, "What's wrong?"

"I beg your pardon, Captain?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated. "You're worried about something."

He winced, and then nodded. "I may have figured out something important today in therapy…"

"But?"

"But there may be more… _others…_ inside."

She cringed a little. "Ouch. Not good."

"No, not good at all," Artemis agreed. He gave what was probably supposed to be a vicious punch to the bag.

"Well hey, look on the bright side: they may not be as annoying as Orion," she pointed out with a little laugh.

Artemis felt no such mirth. "As annoying, not likely. But they may be more… dangerous."

"Artemis-"

"I can't control it when one of _them_ is in charge, Holly," he said. "If something happens-"

"Nothing's going to happen."

"If it does," he pressed, "Then I need you to do what, well, what must be done."

"It's going to be fine," she assured him. "That's just the paranoia talking, mud boy."

He slowly breathed out through his nose. "You're right," he said. "You're right, Holly. I just need to focus."

"And train," Butler said, walking back into the room. He looked Artemis up and down. "Good, you changed. Let's get started."

"Later, mud boy," Holly said with a grin and a short wave, starting out of the gym. She had paperwork (ugh…) to do and Kelp would be on her case if it she didn't hand it in by the end of the day.

As she left Artemis gave her a small wave in reply. For a moment, he thought she'd missed it, before she gave a little laugh and walked out the door.

"You ready?" Butler said, giving his principal a look.

"Quite. Though to be fair, I never thought I would find myself in this position."

Butler grunted. "It's not like you've never been in worse before."

"True. I'm glad things are back to normal; no worlds to save, no villains to catch, no plans to make…" Suddenly, he laughed a little.

"What?"

"Just thinking how very odd it is, to have described residing in a fairy psychiatric ward with the word 'normal.'"

Butler let out a little grin despite himself, and then said, "Alright, enough stalling. Hands up, kid." Artemis did as told, and Butler corrected his posture. "Alright, now, on my mark: One. Two. Three…"

Normalcy, however, was not to last. Even as the basic training continued, countless miles above, a fairy was planning her revenge.


	3. Chapter 3 Alters and Photos

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this.

**Artemis's Brain, Time Unknown**

"This is a really good lollipop," Orion said to no one in particular.

Of course, he knew he wasn't really eating a lemon lollipop. It was just a memory he had selected from Artemis's mind. This whole room was just a memory, as well: a small indoor playground, from when Artemis had been six and Angeline had tried to make him go play with other children his age.

But none of those children were around now. It was just he, all alone, with no one to play with.

"I'm so _bored,_" he sighed. "I wish I were in the wide world. I miss my Lady and Goodly Steed. All my friends."

He doodled with the crayons and drew up a pretty good comic version in the little notebook of Holly in a princess gown. He flipped back through the other pages, all depicting cartoon pictures of the others. Butler as a knight, Juliet a warrior princess, Mulch a small yet daring thief holding a red ruby.

He put the notebook down with another sigh. What good were pictures when one's real friends were out and abroad, whereas he was stuck in here, all alone?

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming from behind. He looked back, surprised. Another young man with black hair and mismatched eyes stared back at him.

"Artemis?" he said, surprised. "Is that you? So nice to meet you finally! Only…" He frowned. "If we're here, who's out there?"

The other boy walked towards Orion, stopping just before him. Then, with a sneer, he shoved the boy backwards.

Orion hit the ground with a BAM!, landing on his butt. "What-?"

"I am not Artemis," the other boy said icily. "Or at least, not anymore. Don't you _ever_ confuse me with him again, do you understand?"

Orion blinked. "But we're _both_ him, parts of him. Or at least, I am. I'm Orion. What's your name?"

The boy laughed, only it wasn't a happy laugh. It seemed bitter, at least to Orion. "My name? You wish to know _my _name? What do you care?"

Orion was hurt. "Well, I was just trying to be nice."

"Oh?" the other boy said nastily. "Well, don't be." He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Orion called. "At least tell me who you are!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes flashing. Orion shrunk back.

"You can call me Hades," he answered icily. "Or rather, don't. Just stay out of my way."

"But," the other alter said, "It gets awful lonely in here. Wouldn't you rather be friends?"

"Friends?" Hades demanded. "I don't need friends. All friends do is stab you in the back." His eyes narrowed fiercely. "I don't want a _'friend,'_ fool, certainly not one like _you._ Do I make myself clear?"

Orion nodded wordlessly, and with a condescending snort, the other boy- Hades- walked away, creating a door with a sweep of his hand as he went.

**Dr. Argon's Clinic, Haven, 11:53 P.M.**

"Mr. Fowl, you understand that you have to eat this, right?" the pixie asked doubtfully, gesturing to the untouched hospital food on the tray, which she had delivered nearly five hours previous.

"Yes, Miss Fern, I do. But I also have work that I must complete tonight."

The nurse of three hundred years rolled her eyes. The boy wasn't even sixteen; that was practically a toddler in fairy years. "I'll check in on you in the morning, Mr. Fowl. Maybe then you'll eat your breakfast."

"Thank you kindly, Nurse Fern." He heard her sigh and the clip-clip of her white shoes, before the door closed behind him.

He typed a series of codes into the laptop and hit the enter key. _There, that should do it._

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what you're working on?"

Artemis turned around in the swivel chair with a small, tired smile. "You suppose correctly, old friend. Not from secrecy, mind; I just haven't got the energy to explain it right now."

"Well, better than secrecy," Butler agreed, stepping closer (he'd walked in when Nurse Fern had left). "But if you're too tired to dumb down a plan for an 'old friend,' then you're too tired to be working on it."

"Not to sound like a petulant primary school student, but I have one mother; I have no need for another."

Butler raised an eyebrow. "When Angeline visited, she gave me explicit orders to make sure of your health and well-being. So in a sense, yes, I _am_ your mother."

Artemis chuckled. "That is something I never thought I would hear you say, old friend. But you're right; I do need rest." He closed the laptop and plugged it into its charger, standing up with a grimace.

Butler noticed this. "Are you in pain?"

"Not physically."

"Stress, then."

Artemis gave a weary nod. "The Ice Cube needs modification, not to mention rebuilding. I can't do any of the physical work at the current moment, of course, but I was hoping to get some of the designing finished tonight." He rubbed his temples. "Apparently, having a psychosis is not exactly conducive to planning."

"Apparently," Butler echoed with a raised eyebrow. "But the sooner you're cured, the sooner you can get back aboveground to your project, and that's only going to happen if you're healthy. And _that's_ only going to happen with sleep."

Artemis chuckled. "Very true, Butler. I will do as you suggest and turn in for the night."

"Alright. No getting back up after I'm gone; I may decide to check back in after a while."

"No worries, old friend; I am true to my word."

Butler snorted. "And I'm a pixette."

"Goodnight, Butler."

"Night, Artemis." The bodyguard left.

Artemis stuck to his promise, taking the pill Dr. Argon had prescribed and downing it with the previously untouched juice box. Then, turning off the light, he crawled under the sheets of the hospital bed.

It was nights like this that made him homesick for the manor, for his comfortable bed and the lulling noises of the pigeons cooing outside, their nests in the various nooks and crannies of the house's roof. He wondered what his little brothers were doing now, if they were asleep yet (he had no idea which time zone Haven was in), or even _when_ it was for them.

If it were indeed nearly midnight there, his parents would likely be asleep, perhaps dreaming. His mother often smiled in her sleep, and occasionally so did his father. Artemis couldn't help but think that it was a miracle they had found each other, out of the seven billion people in the world. He had long since given up hope of having such an encounter himself, considering that out of the only women he talked to under a hundred years of age, one was like an older sister, one was his mother, one had a boyfriend who frequently took her skiing, and the last had made it quite clear that best friends was the farthest their relationship was going to advance.

Suddenly, the door opened again. Artemis sat up, surprised.

Butler's frame was silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, before being illuminated with the lamplight as Artemis quickly turned it on. "You know, Butler, I didn't actually think you were serious about checking in on me."

"I wasn't," the bodyguard grunted. "I forgot to tell you; your mother left these with me when she went back to the manor." He pulled a goldenrod file out from within his suit and handed it to the teenager. "Didn't remember until now."

Artemis opened it, surprised. Inside were a few vintage sepia photos, of a man whose face he found familiar but couldn't place. He checked the back. Small, neat handwriting read, _James Fowl, age 22 years._

Artemis flipped the photo back over and took out a few more. They all showed the same man, sometimes alone, sometimes with a young lady that Artemis knew had to be his grandmother, Maggie.

"He looked very much like my father," he said quietly. "And the twins."

"Yes, he did," Butler said, sitting down beside him on the bed (which groaned under his weight).

"Did I ever meet him?"

"I don't think so. He died about a year after they brought you home, and he wasn't one to visit."

"Ah." He fingered the pictures. "Why exactly did she want me to see these?"

"I wouldn't know. She just asked for me to give them to you."

"I see…"

Butler watched Artemis look at the pictures in the golden glow of the lamp, compassion in the big man's eyes. It was a look he reserved for few, the first and foremost being the young man in front of him. Just the edges of gray hair had already tipped Artemis's temples. Butler wanted it to stay that way.

Though Artemis was legally a man, Butler couldn't help but still think of him as a boy, maybe because those childhood years had so quickly been taken away from his principal. There were days he'd wished for Artemis Fowl II to have been the son of any other millionaire: pampered, a compulsive spender, and bratty, instead of a child that had to become an adult much too quickly. Despite the family's wealth, the codes of moneymaking and good manners (to be used unless necessary, as etiquette was as often a necessary tool as threats). Yet, Butler had no qualms about the past now that he lived in the present.

Unfortunately, his principal did not share his opinion, which was how they'd gotten where they were now.

"Thank you, Butler," the aforementioned principal said, straightening up. "I'll keep these overnight, maybe even scan them for copies in the morning."

Butler shrugged. "Do what you want; they're yours." He stood and walked out the door, poking his head back in again. "Rest," he ordered, before pulling out completely.

Artemis set the pictures on the table beside him, on top of his phone, and turned out the light.

Unbeknownst to him, he would not be scanning those pictures in the morning. As a matter of fact, come dawn, he would not even be in that room.


	4. Chapter 4 Escape from Haven

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this.

**To: Everyone who's said it- You're right, Argon's a gnome, not a pixie. Sorry! XD I'll fix that, thanks for pointing it out. Yes, this will be A/H, despite the introduction of a certain character in this chapter.**

** Finally, if you're one of the people who read these Author Notes, then write "Pease and Carrots" at the bottom of your review.**

**On with the story!**

**Haven, 2:01 A.M.**

Artemis awoke to loud noises and shouts, and footsteps running down the hall. He'd barely had time to sit up before his door slammed open.

He was off the bed in an instant, scrambling for anything to hide behind before the attacker opened fire.

Only this attacker didn't attack. Rather, he said, "Artemis, up! Now!"

The teenager started. "Butler?"

"Now!" the manservant barked. Artemis gaped; he'd rarely heard that tone before from the bodyguard, and certainly never directed towards him.

Though the teenage genius was hardly one to take orders, he understood a desperate man when he saw it, and currently Butler was about as desperate as they came. Which no doubt meant Artemis himself would be a desperate man very, very soon.

"Get dressed. No suits, we haven't got time. T-shirt and jeans. That's an order."

"Yes sir," Artemis said quickly, without giving another thought to it. Butler exited the room, shouting orders all the while to other doctors and patients. Artemis grabbed his phone and the pictures off the desk, stuffing them into the pocket of a pair of jeans he had only worn once, on the day of his mother's visit.

When Artemis came flying out of the room dressed a total of ninety-two seconds later, he saw that the hospital was in uproar.

"Butler, what is going o-" he started, but the bodyguard shouted,

"No time to talk."

Artemis followed the big man's lead, as Butler hurried through the halls. Artemis struggled to keep up.

Nobody stopped them as they burst out the hospital doors, Butler speeding up to a quick run that left Artemis sprinting, something he was not accustomed to.

Thankfully, their destination, the LEP station, was not far from the hospital, and it only took a few minutes to reach. Unfortunately for Artemis, those few minutes left him absolutely winded, but that was hardly his main concern at the moment.

Headquarters, too, was in a state of panic. Officers darted this way and that, talking on walkie-talkies and loading their guns. Artemis saw Foaly beckoning to them from across the rows of cubicles, and Artemis took the lead, pushing as lightly as possible to make his way through the seething crowds. No point in knocking the little men over, as he had no time to deal with a massive domino effect right now.

The special-operations booth was a familiar place to the five occupants of it- yes, five, as Holly Short and Commander Kelp were also present.

"Situation?" Artemis said, walking into the room.

Kelp waved him forward without even glancing at him. "You'd better listen to this, mud boy. Foaly, hit play."

The centaur did as directed without so much as a quip. Artemis became even tenser. This was serious.

Actually, it turned out to be more than serious, a fact made apparent as the tape began to role:

"Hello to all my dear friends at the LEP," Opal Koboi said, her recorded voice dripping with fake innocence. "Oh, and you too, Fowl; it's lovely to be contact again.

"Now that the pleasantries are over, let's get along with the non-negotiable negotiations," Opal continued with a tinkling laugh. "First and foremost, let me make this very clear: you are currently speaking to the Miss Opal Koboi of the past. Like that mud-man novel, _A Christmas Carol, _yes?

"Novels aside, I do have a few demands-"

"She hasn't stated the threat yet," Butler noticed.

"It's her ego. She wants to build to a big finale," Artemis muttered.

"-And unless you all want to be blown to teensy tiny little pieces, I suggest you listen _very _carefully.

"I want Artemis Fowl the Second and Captain Short to meet my, ahem, _friends _at the front steps of the LEP building at two-thirty A.M. standard Haven time. Their hands will be cuffed and their ankles will be chained with exactly fifteen centimeters of links between each leg. If it is fourteen or sixteen, well-" She laughed. "You remember that bit I said about little pieces?

"From there my friends will guide Fowl and Short to the prison block. In the top security cell you will meet my elder self. You will release her with_out_ chains, weapons, or any form of explosives on her.

"The three of us- them, us, whichever you lower life-forms prefer- will be guided outside to Haven Central Park, where a rogue shuttle will be waiting. The three will enter into that ship alone, with no weapons, explosives, or guards with them. My friends will pilot that shuttle to the surface. From there, a twenty-four hour head start will be given to my friends and myself. After that, you are free to chase as you will, LEP.

"No doubt you are wondering what the threat is. Let's just say that probe I'm told I sent down after you a few years ago wants to be _my_ probe when it grows up. The mud men have already signed a contract. You could check their news centers, of course, but I think your time would be better spent protecting yourselves from being blown to smithereens. Follow my demands to the T or I push a little red button. The choice is yours, my friends. Tick tock."

Foaly hit the pause button. "That's where it ends."

Artemis's eyes were closed and his hands were pressed to his temples, trying to reason this out. Around him, the other four were speaking at once.

"We can't give into the demands," Foaly insisted.

"Do you have a better idea?" Holly snapped.

"Maybe genius Fowl here will think of something," Kelp growled. "Until then," He pushed a button on his communicator, "I want every, and I do mean every, free officer stationed around the jail and undercover near the Park. That's an order, men!"

Artemis's eyes suddenly popped open. "Foaly," he said urgently, "Did you receive any video media with the message?"

"No, just audio. Why?"

Artemis's mouth set itself into a grim slash. "This audio message is a decoy. We have been tricked."

"What do you mean?" Holly asked. "This was just sent an half an hour ago-"

"Which is plenty of time to bribe a stupid guard with a fortune from any bank in Haven with a computer. Foaly, run a check. Look for big withdraws in the last hour or so."

"Alright, one moment." He hit a few keys. "Got it. A huge transfer was made to a Mr. Thyme, the main clearance guard at the Paris chute, containing-" He paled. "The entire contents of the bank."

"So you think she's catching a ride down?" Kelp asked.

"I doubt we have to worry about the ride, Commander. Opal is already in the city. In fact-" He stopped.

Then, they all heard it: the dead silence. The dead silence that you only get in an empty- or absolutely quiet- workroom.

"In fact, she's already in the building," Artemis finished, the air in the room suddenly cold.

Kelp was the first to recover, cursing "D'arvit!", drawing his gun and bursting through the doors. Then, he stopped. "Fowl, get out here," he said tensely.

Artemis and the other three were at the door in an instant, and then they saw what Trouble had seen:

Opal Koboi stood smiling in the center of the room, a Neutrino 3000 with the settings flicked to _Ash_ pressed to her temple.

"Let me rephrase that last bit," she said, laughing. "Follow my demands to the T or I pull the trigger. Stun me and my finger will tighten, providing you with the same lovely result."

"Pull it then," Trouble said, his words harsh. "Save us the trouble of a tribunal."

"No!" Artemis said quickly. He put his hands up in surrender and motioned for the others to do the same. "Commander, put down the gun."

"What are you doing, med-whelp?" Kelp growled. "She's threatening to kill _herself_."

"Precisely," Artemis answered tersely. "And also destroy the space-time continuum in the process."

"Oh, very good, Mr. Fowl," Opal said in a mocking tone. "Let me clear things up for you, Commander: if I shoot, I'm not the only one in this room that goes up in flames. Everyone and everything in this world- and maybe beyond- could cease to exist."

"She's right," Artemis said. "She can't shoot or everything- and yes, I do mean everything- goes to hell in a hand basket." He swallowed, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. "Miss Koboi, state your demands."

"Oh, just the usual," she said simply. "As in, everything I put in that little message. Plus retracting your order, Commander. I want every active officer in this room, right here, right now."

"Met," Kelp and Artemis said at the same time. Surprised, Kelp took the lead, dropping the gun and barking out orders. "Someone get me two sets of handcuffs and two leg cuffs, fifteen centimeter length." He pressed the button on his communicators. "Attention all officers: previous order withdraw, effect immediately. Report to base. Now!"

Soon, Holly and Artemis were handcuffed and chained, as officers poured into the building. Gun still pressed to her head, Opal cheerfully led them from the building, letting herself take the lead and two of her 'friends'- two fairies, one a redhead and the other a brunet, both wearing human hockey goalie masks (children's size)- push them from behind.

"Oh, what _fun_ we're going to have!" she said, letting out a small, slightly insane cackle.

"I'll admit, that's the first time a woman has ever said that to me before," Artemis said. Holly raised an eyebrow but didn't question. She knew that look in his eyes. Artemis was making a plan.

Opal reached back and patted him affectionately on the cheek with her free hand. "First and last, darling," she said in a sing-song tone.

Artemis winced at the four-word sentences. While he had gotten used to it from the others, and he knew that numbers were currently the least of his worries, anything regarding both _four_ and _Opal Koboi_ screamed DEATH a thousand different ways.

Then again, maybe it was just Opal.

His mind raced to form a plan, ideas catching from one to another. What did Opal not know? Think…

She didn't know Butler was still in the city, otherwise, she would've gotten him, too.

She had obviously not remembered Mulch or N˚1, for the same reason.

She had said something- something about being _told_ she had sent a probe down. She didn't know anything except what she had been told about the last few years or so.

These were small advantages, it was true- after all, how could he possibly contact Butler, Mulch, or N˚1 now, with his phone in his back pocket and two men in goalie masks watching his every move?- but Artemis was scanning his gaze around, checking for any opportunity.

Holly would have to get the phone out of his pocket. It was the only way.

"Holly," he whispered, but Opal snapped, "No talking!"

So much for that plan. Still, he wasn't ready to give up yet. Not even close. He caught the elf's eyes and jerked his thumb towards his pocket . Holly frowned for a moment, confused, before her eyes widened slightly with realization, and she gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Upon entering the prison, no guard told them to stand down. No guard even drew a gun. Apparently the Commander had given orders to hold fire.

"If you could kindly direct. us in the direction of myself?" Opal asked one of the guards. He opened his mouth. "Without speaking." He gestured with a shaking hand down a hallway.

The cell of Opal Koboi the elder was the epitome of security- cameras, guards, a spider-silk embedded steel door with steel reinforcements. Nobody was taking another chance with that evil pixie.

Well. Not until tonight.

The door was unlocked, the guards were gone, and the cameras were dead. Opal removed the gun from her head and the two fairies in ski masks gripped Artemis and Holly tightly, pushing them into the room.

Opal the elder was asleep at the moment, her once long, silky black hair hanging in greasy clumps, her originally pale complexion now positively ghost-like. Her younger self pursed her lips, revenge vows glowing like fire in her eyes. She crossed the tiny cell in one stride and shook herself awake.

Opal the elder blinked and sat up, surprised. Then, slowly, a maniac grin spread across her face. "You know," she said, standing up and rolling her shoulders, "Father had me wear the blue dress for my seventeenth birthday."

"Au contraire, my elder self; he had me wear the pink."

As they verified the identity of the other, both started to laugh, nearly in sync. Artemis's eyes snapped wide, and he glanced at Holly, who mouthed, _creepy._ He returned the message with a nod.

"Now that that's taken care of-" Opal eldest said, turning back around.

"-Shall we head to the ship?" Opal youngest finished with a devious smile.

"I believe we shall."

The two Opals lead the six of them out of the station and another four blocks east, to an expansive, beautiful park in the center of Haven.

Artemis looked around at the flowering plants and trees; the scent of a thousand different blossoms was intoxicating. It was beautiful, like a tiny slice of what the Earth must've been like all those thousands of years ago.

Mask 1 (as he had named the redhead) gave him a shove. "Enough sightseeing, mud scum. Get moving."

Artemis did as told, but he glanced over at Holly and gave her a tiny nod. The message was clear: _get the phone ASAP._

The ship was small but luxurious; no doubt Opal the younger had taken an hour or two to refurbish above surface. Opal the elder gave her an impressed nod. "Lovely. Our taste is perfect."

"Did you expect any less from perfection?" Opal the younger said.

There were another three men on board: Merv and Scant Brill, whom Artemis recognized, and another man in a mask, though this was a sanitary mask and not a hockey one. He was also dressed in a white lab coat and had a black suitcase with him.

There were two undecorated chairs, bolted to the wall, over in the corner, to which the two captives were lead. Both of them were chained to the chairs, and then the fairy in lab coat walked forward. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a syringe.

"What is-" Artemis started, but Mask 2 (the brunet) quickly cuffed him alongside the head. Artemis blinked, dazed, and watched the black spots float past his vision.

"Oh, just duct tape them," Opal the elder said with an annoyed flick of her wrist. Masks 1 and 2 did as requested, putting a stretch of tape over both Holly and Artemis's mouths.

Holly struggled against her bonds for a moment, shouting into the tape. Mask 2 knocked her a blow, as well, and she shut up. A moment later, Artemis felt her tiny hand slip into his back pocket. She hadn't been shouting in anger; she'd been struggling to get close enough to grab his phone.

She managed to get her hand on it, but had to freeze when OTY turned around. "Doctor, take the blood sample, will you?" she said, bored, before going back to conversing with her older self.

Lab Coat agreed without a word, picking up the syringe again. He swabbed Artemis's right arm (the one farther from Holly) with a hygienic pad, tied the rubber rag around his arm, and stuck the needle into the vein. A moment later, he drew it out again, the chamber in the syringe filled with blood.

He put the drop of blood onto a glass plate from the case and then pulled out a small machine of some sort. He slid the glass plate in. A moment later, there was a low _beep,_ and he checked the results, before announcing, "I think we've got it, Miss Koboi. I can't be sure, not without running tests back at the lab, but it looks likely."

_WHAT looks likely?_ Artemis wanted to scream, but unfortunately the duct tape prevented more than a few muffled noises from escaping his mouth.

OTE sighed. "Really, Fowl, control yourself. Enough with the groaning and grumbling. You should be thanking me; I'm putting an end to your short and miserable existence."

"A rather painful end, true," OTY mused. "I will enjoy cutting you into tiny pieces."

"After will kill the Captain, of course."

"Oh, absolutely. Ladies first, as he's _such_ a gentleman."

A small, metal rectangle was pressed into Artemis's hands. The phone. He had it.

He lowered the volume, which went unnoticed, and then started making more muffled noises.

"Oh, will you shut _up_ already?" OTY said furiously. He didn't, so she strode across the small shuttle and ripped off the tape. Artemis winced in pain. "Shut _UP!"_

Behind his back, he clicked the voice command option on the side. "_Butler _will find us, Koboi," he snarled, making the 'Butler' louder. Hopefully the phone had caught that.

"Butler? Your bodyguard?" she snorted and laughed scornfully, as did her older counterpart. "Give it up, Fowl; you're in a locked ship. Every single LEP officer who could possibly inform him is at HQ; look:" She clicked on the view screen. An image of the inside of Police Plaza appeared. "Planted a mini-cam when I was in there. The computer is running checks right now to make sure everyone's in the room. Understand, little genius? There's nothing you can do. Nothing at all."

"_Yes_," he snapped. The phone in his hand buzzed silently at the command, which was, of course, because of his answer to the unheard question: _"Would you like to call Butler?"_.

Once, twice, three times it rang. Then, nothing. Butler had answered. "Yes," he continued, "Maybe we _are_ tied up in this ship, in the middle of the park. Maybe it _is_ locked. Maybe every officer _is_ at Police Plaza. But we've bested you before, _Koboi_. Don't think we can't do it again."

Opal the younger snarled, and for a moment, she looked as if she were about to slap him. Then, she closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths through her nose. When she opened them again, a serene smile had spread across her face. "You're right. You've bested me before, little boy," she said with a laugh. "But you've never beaten two of me at once." She smiled brilliantly and walked back to her older self.

Artemis waited as they conversed, his stomach in knots. One minute passed. Then two. Then three. _Butler, please, please come quickly…_

"Are we clear for takeoff?" OTE asked Merv, who was at the controls.

"Clear, ma'am."

"Then go! Why weren't we in the air five minutes ago?"

"Sorry, ma'am." He started the engine with a few commands. "Liftoff in three. Two. O-"

CRASH!

Both the flight windows and the leisure windows of the craft were bulletproof and laser proof. Unfortunately, when Domovoi Butler hit the glass running at top-speed, he threw his whole body into it, delivering a lot more force than a single bullet.

The thickness of this bulletproof glass was five centimeters thick. Butler smashed through it like it was tissue paper.

Said bodyguard was quickly followed by three more figures: a centaur, a dwarf, and an elf.

Artemis took a split second to glance up at the view screen, and saw that every name on the officer list had turned up green aside from two. The first, of course, was _Captain Short_. The second, _Commander Kelp._

Trouble had shot Mask 1 before he had even said so much as, "LEP!" Butler clobbered Mask 2, and then used his gun to cut through the chains on Artemis's and Holly's arms.

Both Opals were screaming in fury, but Mervall and Descant Brill, glancing at each other, knew that the best thing to do in the situation was to lead their boss(es) out of there; no matter how furious they may be later, ditching them now would leave them a lot more than furious.

"Sorry, Miss Koboi," Mervall said, picking up the younger pixie.

"Same, Miss Koboi," Descant added, picking up the older. In unison, they sack-tossed their bosses out onto the grass, before following themselves.

Butler was about to go out and, _ahem,_ make the four of them go beddy-bye, but Opal the Elder recovered within seconds of landing on the grass. Jumping to her feet with a snarl, she began to chant words in gnomish, sparks crackling around her. The younger Opal did the same.

"Not good!" Foaly said, panicking.

"Why not?" Butler demanded, cracking his knuckles. Sparks or no sparks, he was this close to jumping on the pixies (literally).

"Don't you dare, mud man. Touch one of those little sparks and you'll wish you'd never been born," Trouble said grimly. "Holly, get us out of here!"

And that was when the lightning bolts started.

They shot out of the pixie's fingers, somehow both black and white and laced with violet sparks, crackling in through the hole as the new occupants dodged the attacks.

"Return fire!" Trouble barked, drawing his gun.

"With what?" Holly demanded, ducking under a bolt (they had, of course, confiscated her Neutrino back at the plaza).

"Guns," Butler said, grabbing one from the two fallen cronies on the floor. He threw one to Holly and opened fire on the pixies.

"Mud boy, fly the _D'arviting shuttle!"_ Kelp yelled, firing a few beams.

Artemis didn't waste time with words. He crouched to the ground and crawled hands-and-knees, ignoring the glass splinters, to the front. Thankfully, the engine was running, but he needed to pilot it up and off the ground.

"Would you like takeoff?" a cool, feminine voice asked him. Lili Frond.

"Yes!" Artemis snapped, trying to figure out the controls without poking his head up into the range of fire.

"Liftoff in three- two- one-"

And then, suddenly, they were in the air, and Artemis was scrambling to figure out the controls.

Lightning bolts still cracked around them, but now they were on the outside of the gaping hole. Holly, Trouble and Butler were still preoccupied with the _return fire_ bit, so he yelled, "Foaly! How on Earth do I fly this blasted thing?"

"Helmet!" Foaly shouted back. "Helmet!"

He spotted it above him: a blue pull-down helmet that presumably controlled the ship. He pulled it on with one hand.

Suddenly, a thousand different pieces of data were scurrying across his vision. This was more complex than any Cessna he'd ever flown. Any_thing_ he'd ever flown, as a matter of fact.

"Get me to a magma chute!" he barked, hoping there was some sort of GPS on this bucket.

"Command recognized. Follow the path," Lili Frond replied calmly. Through the lenses of the helmet, he saw a bright line of arrows pointing him towards the nearest chute.

Artemis flew. He flew like a two-year-old drives a toy car, true, but at the very least he didn't crash into anything, and he made it to the chute takeoff hangar.

Then, he realized the problem: he was headed at top speed for a magma chute without a window. If they got blasted right now, everyone in this shuttle would be cooked to _crispy._

"Blast schedule," he ordered. If he could pilot this thing into the chute just right, he could (hopefully) fly to the top on energy alone, without hitting one of the blasts.

The time schedule appeared. The latest magma blast had been two minutes ago. He had approximately… eleven seconds to get into the chute before the doors closed and he would crash into them, going who-knows-how-fast. Straight into a wall without even a glass to protect him.

He gritted his teeth. "Faster."

"Ten," the readout said happily. "Nine. Eight. Seven-"

He would never make it. The doors were closing too fast-

"Five, four, three-"

_Almost there-_

"Two-"

He closed his eyes-

"One!"

The doors clanged shut… behind them.

They were through. Artemis opened his eyes, stunned. He wasn't dead. Yet.

"Full speed, going up," he ordered the ship. Barely waiting for the order to finish, it shot him up, up, up, faster than he'd ever gone before, and then-

They were out. Out into the darkness of night in an unknown country, but out.

"Stop ascent and hover," he said, before removing the helmet. He got to his feet shakily and looked back.

All five of the others were staring at him.

Holly was the first to speak. Grinning, she said, "That was one heckuva flight, Arty!"

"Don't you _ever-"_ gasped Kelp, "Do that again, mud whelp. You scared the hell outta me!"

"Better scared than dead, Commander," Artemis quipped, but he was smiling with relief. "Though I do believe I'll give the controls to Holly."

"Right, 'cause that'll make it so much better," Mulch mumbled.

"Captain, where are we?" Trouble asked, as Holly pulled the control helmet over her eyes.

She ran a quick GPS check. "Southern France, roughly… three thirty in the morning."

"Southern France?" Artemis said, ears perking up. "Terrific. That's perfect."

"What's perfect?" Foaly groaned, still looking sick to his stomach.

"We need backup," Artemis explained. "No doubt Opal youngest had an escape ship ready somewhere in the park, just in case things went wrong. They'll be on us in perhaps ten minutes, unless we can get somewhere safe. Somewhere they'd never check."

"Such as?" Commander Kelp said, annoyed at the lengthiness of the boy's speech.

"Who's one person that neither of the Opals know about? Someone the older Opal was in prison for, and the younger Opal had never met? Someone who lives in France?"

"Of course," Holly said, slapping her forehead up front (or rather, the helmet over her forehead). "Minerva Paradizo."

"Precisely. Is she in any of the LEP files, Commander?"

"A few. Not enough to find her unless you were looking."

"Let's just hope she's home."

"It's three-thirty in the morning, mud whelp," Trouble pointed out. "Where else would she be?"

Artemis shrugged. "She goes skiing in the mountains occasionally, in the southeast." He flipped open his phone. "One way to find out."

He selected _Minerva Paradizo (cell) _on his contact list and hit the call button. He heard one ring, then a second, before he heard a groggy voice say, "Artemis Fowl?" Then, her tone went rather angry. "It's three-thirty in the morning! What do you want at this hour?"

"Good morning to you as well, Minerva. As it happens, a few of my, ah, friends and I need a place to stay for the night, if you could help us."

There was a pause, and then he heard a sigh crackle across the airwaves. "When does the ship land?"

*******A/N: Yes, this will be A/H, don't worry!**


	5. Chapter 5 Wildcats and Wildcards

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this. Information on WWII fighter planes from  www. daveswarbirds usplanes/american. htm .

**Southern France, Approx. 3:45 A.M.**

When the fairy ship landed on the lawn of the Paradizo Chateau, Minerva was personally there to greet the motely crew. Dressed in a old pink nightdress, her naturally curly hair all over place, she looked much less like a genius of an heiress than a normal fifteen-year-old girl.

"_Bonsoir, mademoiselle. Je m'appelle Commandant Kelp," _Trouble introduced himself, holding out a hand for her to shake. "_Je crois que vous connaissez déjà les autres?"_ _Good evening, miss. My name is Commander Kelp. I believe you already know the others?"_

_ "Enchanté,"_ Minerva said, shaking his hand, before switching to English. "But I can speak English, if that's easier for Butler."

"It is," he said. Holly chuckled slightly. Of course Butler _spoke _French, but then again, he didn't have the gift of universal language. In any case, English was easier for her, than French, too; since she'd been spending so much time with Artemis, it had become even natural.

Minerva caught the chuckle and turned towards it. "Captain Short. It's been quite a while."

"Three years," the elf agreed with a nod. "Don't worry, we're not attempting any sort of invasion tonight."

"Good to know," Minerva said with a smile. Then, she turned to Artemis, her expression rather cold. "I sent you an email. On the physics behind the possibility of forwards time travel."

He winced. "Ah. Yes."

"A month ago, Fowl. A _month ago!_ I called Butler to make sure you weren't dead." Butler shifted his feet guiltily. "He said he couldn't tell me anything."

"He couldn't," Artemis said. "There was some, erm… some trouble. Down underground."

"Trouble?" she said, her eyebrows knitting together. "What kind of trouble?"

"Atlantis was destroyed," Trouble answered heavily. "A deep-space probe of Foaly's was hacked and sent down underground."

Minerva let out a tiny gasp, but managed to contain herself. "Casualties?"

"Tons."

"_Quelle horreur," _she whispered. Then, she shook herself slightly. "Is that why I haven't heard back from you?"

Artemis nodded, and then winced. "That and… something else."

"Something else," she said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

Holly inched towards Artemis protectively. She knew how hard it would be, for Artemis to tell anyone, especially a fellow genius, about the Complex. So far, the few who knew- mainly the patients at the clinic, Dr. Argon, and Artemis's few friends and family- had found out mainly through circumstance or via phone call from Butler.

"I have… a slight psychosis," he said finally, glancing away. "The fairies call it the Atlantis Complex. Currently, I am in the second stage, which mainly manifests itself through OCD like tendencies and multiple personalities."

Minerva's mouth dropped slightly. "Oh," she said uncertainly. "I- well." She coughed. "You needn't answer that email, then."

Artemis gave just a hint of a smirk, and behind him Holly shot Minerva a grateful look.

"Where are my manners?" Minerva said suddenly. "Come in, all of you. We have rooms prepared."

"Just so you're aware, we're on the run," Butler said as they walked over the threshold into the Chateau.

"I guessed. I had all the surveillance cameras set to a fifteen-minute loop of empty hallways, just in case anyone hacks the codes.

Artemis glanced back at Foaly. "That right there, my friend, is what we call _precautions. _Miss Paradizo has assumed that her defenses are not impenetrable." Foaly harrumphed but didn't answer. After all, the mud boy _did _have a point.

Minerva ignored the other two genii and continued. "Everyone in the house is asleep aside from Pierre and me, even Papa."

"What about the ship?" Mulch pointed out. "It's like a big red and white target, ain't it?"

"We have a small hangar for the family planes. If you can fly it over there, whoever's after you shouldn't spot it."

"I'll fly it in," volunteered Holly.

Trouble rolled his eyes. "Of course you will."

"I'll go with, to show her where it is," Minerva said. "The rest of you, make yourselves at home."

"Will do, Minerva. Thank you," Artemis said, leading the way into the chateau.

Holly climbed in through the broken window, not bothering with the doors. Minerva hefted herself in, careful not to touch the broken glass, and wrinkled her nose at the condition of the interior. "Lovely."

Holly strapped on the helmet. "Hold onto something, mud girl."

Minerva obliged, and pointed out the way to the hangar once they were in the air. Holly decided to skip the fancy stuff and just land it easy on the small runway, guiding it carefully through the doors.

"Impressive," Minerva commented. "You don't even need a landing crew."

"Not with this helmet. It gives you all the data you need and more." She lifted it off her head and hopped out.

Minerva, a lot more cautious, took her time to get out of the ship. When she finally stepped down onto the cement and turned around, she saw Captain Short looking at one of the other planes with awe.

"General Motors FM-2 Wildcat," she said with reverence. "Over eleven hundred made in 1943 by the Americans. I haven't seen one of these beauties in years."

"Surely your people have more advanced technology?" Minerva said, glancing over at the fairy aircraft.

"Yeah, but these fighters bring back a lot of memories. Do you fly it?"

"Occasionally." She hesitated, and then said, "Do you… remember World War II?"

"Not well. I was only twenty or so back then, just a kid."

"Ah. So you are roughly ninety years old?"

"M-hm."

"Oh," Minerva said, blinking. "Forgive me for my surprise, Captain, only you look just a few years older than myself."

Holly shrugged. "We age differently." She pulled her gaze away from the antique plane and said, "We should head back. I don't like being so far from the others; things tend to get dangerous when we get separated during times like these." Her eyes were set with angry determination. "I just want one month- _one month!_- where I don't have to save the world from deluded pixies!"

Minerva blinked again. "Beg your pardon?"

Holly waved her hand tiredly. "I'll explain in the morning." Suddenly, all she wanted was a warm bed.

"Of course. To the chateau, then," the human girl agreed, taking the lead. As they walked out of the hangar and across the lawn, she suddenly said, "You said 'times like these.' Does this sort of thing happen often?"

"You have no idea."

**Artemis Fowl's Brain, Time Unknown**

Artemis looked around his white office. "Well, this is new," he said into the silence. Despite the Complex, he had never ended up here while his body was completely unconscious. _Perhaps the Complex is progressing._

This in itself was sobering news, but it was made no better by the appearance of his other alter, Orion, poking his head through the recently appeared door. "Oh, hello!" the other teenager (who was wearing a white suit) said excitedly. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Really?" Artemis said, bored. "Because I'm not."

"Oh, don't be such a downer. We're all happy you're here." He made a face. "Well. Almost all of us."

Artemis's ears perked up. "All of us?"

"Oh, yeah, you wouldn't know." The white-suited boy jerked a hand back towards what Artemis thought could potentially be an indoor play area. "There are some people you should meet."

Artemis stood up wearily. Of course, more alters. This couldn't be good.

He followed Orion out into the play place and saw another young teenager sitting at a small table off to the side. Identical in every respect to both Artemis and Orion but for the suit (which was a dark shade of emerald green) he gave a short but not unhappy nod at the pair. "Ah," he called across the gym. "I thought you'd probably be here." He stood and walked forward, hand extended. "Athena Fowl, at your service."

Artemis started slightly. "Athena? Goddess of wisdom?"

Athena chuckled. "I am most certainly male, Artemis. Not that you're exactly one to talk about gender-specific names."

Artemis scowled. "It's not gender-specific. It can be-"

"Used for either a male or a female, and means 'The Hunter'- or 'Huntress,' I suppose, depending on the bearer. Yes, I know."

Artemis glanced down and saw that, unlike the last time he had been in his own mind, his suit was now a dark midnight blue, with a white shirt. He frowned. "I would assume someone else is wearing the black suit?"

Athena and Orion glanced at each other. "Um…" Orion said, and then gave a hesitant nod. "Yes. Sort of."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "'Sort of,'" he said doubtfully.

"Do excuse his nervousness, Artemis. Whereas Hades- he's the one who now wears the black suit- does not bother me, Orion's encounter with him was apparently not pleasant," Athena explained. "As you can see, I am the logical, analytical side of you, and Orion is the emotional side. Apollo is around here somewhere- I imagine he's gone skydiving again-"

"Skydiving?" Artemis said with surprise.

"It's his forte. If I had to make a guess- and my guesses are nearly always right- he's the thrill-seeking side of you. Hades…" Athena shrugged. "I suppose one could say he's the harsh side."

Artemis's face had seemed to turn to stone. "The harsh side."

"Indeed. One may say we're a council of opposites. I myself am analytical and cautious, Apollo throws all caution to the wind and does whatever he wishes." Athena huffed and rolled his eyes. "Orion wants to be friends with all of us, and Hades wants nothing to do with any of us."

"You're a conflicted person, Artemis!" Orion said cheerfully.

"He's also very negative," Athena added. Suddenly, he groaned.

Artemis turned around at the sound of footsteps, but he was a second too late. A red-black-and-white blur tackled him to the ground.

Artemis spluttered and coughed, as the person on top of him whooped. "Gotcha! Oh man, you didn't even see that one coming!"

"Apollo, get off of him," Athena said with an annoyed tone.

Apollo- for of course it was he- jumped up. "Hey, Arty!" he said with a daredevil grin. He was dressed in a fireball red suit. "That flight was seriously awesome! I thought we were _so _gonna die, but you flew like a hot dog man with a German Shepherd on his heels!"

"Er- Thank you. I think."

"And man, you're a natural charmer! I can totally see you being like those rich twenty-something millionaires, you know? Pretty girls all around!"

Artemis blanched. "Huh?"

"Holly, Minerva, oh man you gotta get Juliet around here! Full _house_ of hot girls!"

"As you might have noticed," Athena continued, while Artemis tried to stop choking, "Each of us share a few of what you would call 'documents.' For instance, both Orion and Apollo have an… attraction towards Captain Short, though Apollo doesn't care to limit his attraction to one specific woman. Both Orion and myself believe in the good use of common courtesy. From what I know, both Hades and Apollo have a perhaps higher than healthy level of pride-"

"Hey!"

"-And Hades and myself are equally clever. However, you yourself are the only brave, emotional, and even occasionally ruthless genius among us."

"Like I said, conflicted!" Orion piped in.

"So who's the most dominant?" Artemis asked.

"You are," Apollo said with a shrug. "The rest of us sort of vary on the situation, yannow? Like, when it comes to car chases or flying pods or crazy plans, I'm da man."

"Apollo also lacks grammar skills," Athena pointed out.

"Screw grammar."

"And vocabulary."

"Screw vocabulary."

Artemis interrupted it before the two of them (him?) gave him a headache. "So you're the thrill-seeking side," he said to Apollo.

"Yep. I like challenges. Preferably challenges with big risks and even bigger rewards. The more dangerous, the more-"

"Exciting?" Athena guessed, sounding bored.

"I was thinking more like 'spectacularly awesome,' but yeah, that too. Nothin' better than bombs and guns and pretty girls to woo."

"Oh my," Orion said, smiling innocently when everyone turned to him with surprise.

Athena sighed. "I'll be heading back to my library now. I think I've taken as much of these two as I can handle." He gestured to a green door on the side of the gym and began to walk towards it.

"More skydiving, anyone?" Apollo offered. When no one took him up on it, he shrugged. "Whatever. More turns for me. Seriously, though, just check it out. I'm right through that door." He pointed to the red door and headed off in that direction.

"This is my area," Orion said with a shrug. "You can stay here, if you like."

"Er- I'm good," Artemis said quickly. "Where's Hades' door?"

Orion pointed at a black, closed doorway. "He's through there."

"I think I'll go meet him."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Orion warned. "He's not really a people person."

Artemis gave him a dubious look. "I think I can handle myself."

"Well, that's the problem," Orion said, biting his lip. "We all accept that in the end, we're still part of you. And we'd like to get back to being one person as soon as we can." He shrugged. "I don't feel complete, you know? Like I'm missing something. But Hades, he doesn't want to be part of you again. He'll fight you."

"Ah. Well, if you hear yelling, get Apollo."

"Alright," Orion said with a sigh. "If this's what you want."

Artemis headed off towards the black door without another word.

He pushed it open, and instantly there was a strong, icy wind blowing against his face.

He walked through and closed the door behind him. "Hello?" he called out.

No response.

He walked a ways forward, trying to figure out where he was. It took him a moment to realize he was on the roof of Fowl Manor. He looked out at where the edge of the roof was supposed to be, and saw a blank white flatness. Far off in the distance, he saw another house, with someone standing on top of it. He waved his arm.

The other person waved his arm.

Ah. So he was in a miniature world, then. A strange one with only one landmark: the rooftop of the manor.

He walked over to the edge, the bitter wind still bowing against his face. He looked down.

Instead of windows and such, there was just a blank, flat edge of stone. That was all, straight down to the ground. He sat down on the edge, feet dangling over against the rock.

"Leave."

He turned, and saw another alter standing there- Hades, obviously. Dressed in a black suit, shirt and tie, his face was as cold and bitter as the wind.

"Didn't you hear me?" he demanded. "Leave!"

Artemis stood up. "You must be Hades."

"What do you care?" the alter said sharply.

"What do you mean, what do I care?" Artemis retorted. "You're a part of me, aren't you? Am I not supposed to care about myself?"

Hades sneered. "Now you're sounding more like it. Care about yourself, huh? That's all there really is to care about in this world- or that one, you precious little prince. You get to spend all your time on the outside, while the four of us are stuck in here!"

"Well, I'm sorry about that, but I-"

"Oh, sorry, are you? That's rich. That's real rich."

Artemis gritted his teeth. He could feel his blood boiling, and he couldn't understand why. This- this _other him_ just got under his skin. "Pardon me for being so blunt, but exactly why do you hate me again?"

"Why hate you?" Hades said, laughing in anger. "Why hate you? The real question is, why not? You're just like me. You're despicable. You don't care about anybody but yourself, why don't you just admit it?"

"That's not true," Artemis said hotly. "I care about my friends, my family-"

"Oh, friends and family? How predictable."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you poor, stupid fool, that you're falling right into their little trap. Friends and family? Don't make me laugh. All they want to do is trick you into believing they care, and then as soon as your back is turned, they'll take your winnings and run in the opposite direction." He snarled, sweeping his hand to the side "Not me, pretty-boy. You can let yourself be duped if you want, but no one's going to fool me."

"Nobody's trying to-"

"This world is chock full of sad chumps who just _deserve _to get robbed, and guess what? Either you're the thief, or you're the victim. I intend to be the first, and no one, certainly not _you,_ is going to get in my way. Got it?"

Artemis stared at him for a second, stunned, and then his expression turned into that of disgust. "You know, Hades, I believed that in order to cure this Complex, I had to piece the four of you back together. But now, I'm rather inclined to think that you can just stay out of the equation altogether."

"Fine by me."

"Good. Stay away from the others, and most certainly stay away from me." And with that, he turned and walked past Hades and back through the black door, slamming it behind him.

Orion looked up. "How'd it go?" he asked hesitantly.

Artemis walked over into his office and slammed it without saying so much as a word.

Orion watched him go with a wince. "Not to well, then," he said softly to himself. Then, he sighed. "We are never getting cured, are we?"

"Doubtful," Athena called over from his library.


End file.
